"If I looked the way I did in high school, maybe my husband would pay more attention to me."

I am so saddened when I hear women say things like this; women around
the world sell themselves short every day. We compare ourselves to each
other, covet the bodies of airbrushed reality stars, and view the size
zero bodies of super models in fashion magazines as perfect bodies. We fill our minds with self hate and practice deprivation in order to achieve unattainable social expectations.

In the meantime we are ruining perfectly happy relationships with lovers, family members, and most importantly... ourselves.

The average television/movie star wears a size 2-4 and weighs
approximately 110 pounds and fashion designers create their samples in a
size 2. The average American woman wears a size 12-14 and weighs about
150 pounds which, according to Self Magazine is considered obese. Is it really any wonder why the average age for women to become anorexic and/or bulimic is 13?

We need to make a conscious decision to love ourselves. Period.

No woman- any size, any shape, any religion, race, or sexual orientation, any where will EVER
find love with a partner until she truly learns to love herself. She
may find a superficial love or a flawed love but an everlasting,
unconditional love will not be achieved until she feels worthy of these
relationships and has one with herself.

Put the shoe on the other foot ladies. How attractive would it be if
your lover was constantly degrading and insulting his/her self? How
redundant and exhausting would it be if you were always having to affirm
your partner that he/she is attractive? How long would the
relationship continue or remain a healthy and happy one?

In order to fall in love with yourself you have to first accept yourself
as you are. You need to accept whatever it is that you may consider a
'flaw' and learn to think positively about it. I do not advocate
changing who you are; I advocate making yourself happy. If you do
not love something about yourself, teach yourself to love it by looking
at it in a different way. If you are consistently insulting yourself or
attempting to achieve the 'norm' that society has set, you will never
achieve true happiness and you will never be able to grow into a
confident, self loving woman. In order to love yourself you must first
accept yourself.

I love myself and I have accepted myself- everything
about myself. I love my body, I love my curves, I love my intellect, I
love my creativity, I love me. I am a happy, healthy size 18. I say
healthy because that is exactly what I am.

health·y /ˈhelTHē/

1. In good health: "feeling fit and healthy".
2. (of a part of the body) Not diseased.

Synonyms
sound - wholesome - salubrious - healthful - well - hale

Nowhere in that definition does it say:
skinny, thin, small, 110 pounds, or size 0. Nowhere. You see ladies,
you can be healthy without wearing a single digit size in your jeans.
You can be healthy if you feel fit and healthy. (The definition says
so!)

Wanna know how I did it? I looked at myself
in the mirror- naked, in all my dimpled glory. Yup, that's exactly
what I did. I marched right into the bathroom, locked the door,
stripped down, and stared at myself.

I looked at my face first. I stared deep
into these eyes and thought, "What a pretty color. Not quite brown, not
quite gold, specs of green. I like 'em." I looked at my nose and
thought, "How cute. Just the right size for my face." Then came my
skin, "Pale porcelain... very roaring 20's."

Thus began my love affair with my face.

Then came my breasts and stomach. I've
always been a fan of my breasts, I'm not gonna lie. They're rather
large and quite perky for 'bigguns' so loving them wasn't difficult! My
stomach wasn't as easy to conquer. You see, I have a lovely "mama
apron." The women in my family have always nicknamed the soft, hanging
skin we gained after having children the "mama apron." Even with the
cute nickname, I've always loathed the damn thing... until I learned to
accept it for what it is. This extra skin filled with fluff (you like
that, don't ya?) protected three of the best things that this world has
ever seen... my boys. This apron is covered in soft lavender stripes
and is silky to the touch and if I close my eyes, I can run my hands
over it and remember when I felt the kicking of a baby boy inside of
it. I can remember when the doctor laid the three most precious
blessings on this "mama apron" and I heard the tiny cries of miracles.
Miracles that were held inside this fluffy cloud of skin. I will never
again hate this stomach and I will never again wish it away.

I am now in love with my stomach.

Then came my thighs. I've always cursed my
thighs because they are large and touch together creating the infamous
'chub rub.' So I stood there, staring and staring and staring at those
thighs. They're kinda cute ya know... all soft and dimply and carefully
touching together. Then I realized, they are the protectors of the
throne, the armed guards to the Queen, and the regulators of Mount
Sarah! You see, nobody's gettin' access to the Queen unless those
thighs allow it. They are my own private security system!

Ha! I love these thighs.

We won't even discuss the Queen... I mean, who doesn't love their vagina?

You see, I stared and stared and figured out
that I love my body just the way it is. There is no need to change
anything about myself... I am happy. I am happy within myself and I am
happy with how I look. Want proof? Look at this definition...

hap·py /ˈhapē/

Adjective

Feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.
Having a sense of confidence in or satisfaction with (a person, arrangement, or situation).